8:30, Friday Night
by DeadZoneCuba
Summary: They met every Friday at 8:30, an unspoken rule for them....


8:30, Friday Night

They never really thought about why they did it, met every week, Friday Night, 8:30, in the local park, the same time as they had the week before, and the same time it would be the next week, it was just sort of there thing. It had been the time and day that they first officially hung out together with no one else around, and the time that led to their first really steamy, somewhat sexual experience together a few meetings later, so, it became the sort of "unspoken" rule between them, every Friday, at 8:30 at night, they would meet at the park to talk, hang out, and perhaps do other things.

She had gotten there first, a little earlier then usual, but that didn't really matter to her, as she was used to being by herself, either at home or outside. She was known as Henrietta to most of the kids at High School, as that was what she went by as part of the small group of "Goths" who she hung out with. Was this her real name however, most weren't sure of, as the other kids she hung out with usually went by dark, "Gothier" nicknames, so it was pretty much assumed that "Henrietta" was just a moniker to hide a more innocent, less Goth sounding name.

Her whole life, Henrietta went through it with the same group of friends, never once attempting to find new ones, never once trying to attempt to find any kind of love, always depressed, always feeling that life had no meaning or happiness in it. It was honestly not known what led her at her young age to the ways of Goth, but there she was, always with the same people, and always vowing she'd never be friends with any of the "conformists" in her town and school.

But then, there was him, then, there was the poetry club.

She had went to express her poems to an audience, even though it was a small one, and he went out of mere curiosity, but the moment she laid eyes on him, the curiosity came over her. She had always seen him in school, a nervous, twitchy mess. His jacket always buttoned improperly, a flask of coffee with him, though weird, nervous outbursts of his, He didn't seem like the type who would want to come into the poetry club she was a part of, didn't seem like a person who would come within 20 feet of it (The poems were of a darker tone in this club you see, told by people of a "darker" nature). After that club meeting where he first came ended, for reasons even Henrietta didn't know, she approached him and talked to him, more at first to ask why the hell he would even come to this sort of place, but soon, she found herself surprisingly warming up to him, and thus, questions turned to about himself and his life. His name was Tweek Tweak, and apparently, according to Tweek, he had, from a young age, listened to Henrietta and the other Goths reciting their poems, and he developed a curiosity, then an interest about them, so, despite his not being Goth material at all (To her anyway), he started to write some of his own. That's what led to their first meeting in the park, that's what led to them doing it every week at the same time, not only so she could get a closer look into his soul and at his poems, but even, perhaps, so that he could get to know more about her as well. Henrietta never really figured these meetings of theirs would last long, but, once she began to know Tweek better, and he know her, she began to see him in a different light, a better light, and he became someone that she not only didn't mind spending time with, but someone she wanted to spend time with.

There first handful of meetings went as normal, they'd read their poems, talk about them, then talk about other things before it was time for the both of them to go. It was one particular Friday that they met a few weeks after this that it first happened. Neither one really had intentions of anything of this nature happening, they were just busy staring out into the distance, both silent and in thought. His arm then went around her shoulder, in an attempt to keep her warm, as Tweek later confessed. Soon, like a reflex, her head leaned onto his shoulder. His eyes turned to her, her eyes to his, and before either one knew it, they were both locked in a gentle, steamy kiss. That one kiss led to several kisses, those several kisses led to them laying down together, locked in an embrace, and then, they made love. It wasn't anything rough or dirty, in fact, both felt a sense of euphoria and light hearted happiness when it was over. Out of respect for her, Tweek promised he wouldn't tell a soul about what they had done, and she said the same for him. From that night forward, both of them would go about their usual Friday night routine when it came, but every so often, when their longing for each other reached it's peak, they would consent to making love, either underneath the shade of a tree, or in the dark, yet romantic shadows of behind the various swing sets.

So there she was, Henrietta, her black hair streaked with red, her fingernails and lips painted black to match that part of her hair that wasn't streaked red, her clothes, a simple dress, were also black in color. She sat lazily underneath a tree, absentmindedly clicking her tongue ring, a simple, silver stud, against the roof of her mouth. It was in between these seemingly endless clickings that she saw him approach her, his usual imbuttoned shirt and slight shaking and twitching being a dead give away to his arrival.

"You're late…." Was all she uttered as she patted the seat next to her on the ground.

"Yeah, I know, I know…" He began, sitting down next to her and pecking her on the lips in greeting as he did. "…But my dad needed some extra help at the coffee shop, and he wouldn't let me go at my usual time, you know how it is right?"

She nodded in understanding and looked up at his face, his soft, clear brown eyes, his messy blond hair, his sweet smile. Looking at that smile of his, it caused the rare occurrence of Henrietta being able to smile herself. Slowly she leaned up and touched her black, pouty lips to his. Slowly, his eyes closed and he kissed back. As the kiss went on, her black, long fingernails ran gently along his cheek, feeling every curve of his cheek and down to his chin, and his hand caressed the back of her head and her short hair. It finally ended, and Henrietta would be the first to speak.

"So, did you bring any poems we can read?"

"Nah…not this time…"

She slowly looked at him curiously.

"Why not?"

Tweek slowly embraced her further and looked slowly into her eyes.

"I figured tonight I'd focus more on you….You're just better then any old poem I could read…"

There was that smile again. Tweek seemed to have that sort of effect on her. Again her hand ran across his cheek, and again her lips leaned up and pressed to his. He gently kissed back and embraced her closer to his chest until she finally broke the kiss, again speaking to him.

"I love you…."

She had never uttered that phrase to him before, even with what they usually did with one another whenever they were together. Slowly, Tweek smiled and leaned down to peck her lips. She pecked back and smiled. She didn't even have to hear him say I love you back, because with all that they went through, every Friday night, 8:30 on the dot, she knew that he felt the same way for her.


End file.
